The Beginning of The End
by Numbatstuff
Summary: The title is really self explanatory - things are starting to fall to pieces. Follows on from Infinity & Beyond.


I'm sorry everyone but this is a nasty chapter. Difficult, ugly and hard to write. Much like life really. And like life, things don't always end happily.

The one thing i do like about this story is the starring role that Jacob's button fly jeans take. I knew there was a reason he always wore them!

Now apologies to those who don't like Kate Bush, but the love/hate conflict in this song perfectly matches that of the story. And of all the classic characters in literature, Rufus Sewell was born to play Heathcliff.

Soundtrack: Wuthering Heights – Kate Bush

"Out on the wily, windy moors, we'd roll and fall in green

You had a temper, like my jealousy

Too hot, too greedy

How could you leave me, when I needed to, possess you,

I hated you, I loved you too

Bad dreams in the night

Told me I was going to lose the fight"

"My one dream, my only master"

* * *

"You've done _what_ to the corvette?"

Jacob stared at her in disbelief.

"I don't understand how you could do that Rachel." He frowned and shook his head slowly. Ran his hands through his dark hair.

"You're telling me, after all these months of putting up with that sanctimonious crap from you, after months of 'I'm not letting you drive Jacob, I don't trust your driving, no you can't have a key to the SUV', that you," he pointed one long index finger at her, his normally restrained voice slowly getting louder, "you, Rachel Young, ace driver _fucking_ extraordinaire, have smashed my corvette into a power pole. I am absolutely speechless Rachel. Absolutely – fucking - speechless."

He stared at her.

Rachel didn't really know what to say. She was embarrassed, didn't know how to handle this situation. She wanted to smile at him, wanted to break the tension. Wanted to comment that he seemed to be saying an awful lot for someone who is speechless, but thought it probably best that she didn't. She really wanted him to sympathise with her, wanted him to hold her and say everything would be ok. But instead, she thought he looked angrier than she had ever seen him before.

"Yes Jacob," she said calmly, hoping that some of her restraint would rub off on him, "I smashed the corvette into a power pole."

"How?" he spat, his face clearly showing his anger. "How did you smash my car into a fucking power pole? Was it moving? Did it run out into the road in front of you? How? How the _fuck_ did you smash my corvette into a power pole?"

He was dressed all in black, a slim fitting, long sleeve, black cotton t-shirt and black, button fly jeans. His outfit suited his black mood and she thought for a moment that he looked dark and dangerous and sexy as he raged at her.

"Well," she said quietly, knowing that he wasn't likely to be happy when he heard how it happened, "I dropped my packet of Skittles on the passenger side floor and I reached over to pick them up and just, um, just lost control I guess."

He raised his eyebrows and stared at her in amazement.

"Surely not, surely you're making that up Rachel. Surely you wouldn't be that stupid."

She shrugged slightly. She had hoped he might see the funny side of the situation once she explained it.

"Don't shrug at me. Don't shrug at me like you don't give a shit Rachel. Do you have any idea how long I've had that car? Do you have any idea how much that car means to me? Where is it now?"

"They towed it away."

"Who towed it away?"

"Here, they gave me a card. They said to call them in the morning." She handed him the business card of the towing company. He stared at it, disbelievingly.

"How bad is it?"

"What, the car you mean?"

"Yes, the car I mean," he fumed.

"Well the whole front end was pretty much caved in. It's pretty bad Jake. Um………………….."

"Did they say whether it was repairable?"

"They said they wouldn't know until the morning. Until they'd inspected it properly."

"Shit. I need a fucking drink." He strode to the kitchen cabinet that he kept spirits in and pulled out an almost full bottle of bourbon and a couple of glasses. "You?" He nodded his head towards the bottle as he stuck a glass under the ice dispenser of the fridge.

She nodded. She didn't normally drink spirits, let alone straight spirits, but she had a feeling it was going to be a long night at the beach house that night and she was going to need all the anaesthetic that she could manage.

Jacob handed her one of the glasses and taking the other sat down heavily on the big couch facing the picture windows. The sea was restless and heaving under the grey dusky sky.

"And are you ok?" he asked her quietly, staring into the glass as he swirled the ice cubes and bourbon around. "You said you were fine but sometimes the shock of this kind of thing only hits you later."

"I'm ok." She sat next to him and kicked off her shoes. She fiddled with the skirt of her white dress, noticing a small rip and an oil mark. Damn. She hoped she didn't look as shook up as she felt after the accident.

"Are you sure?" He looked at her, his green eyes pained. "You know I only care that you're all right. In the end I can get a new car, but I can't replace you. As if it's not bad enough that I have to worry about you when we're working, then you go and do something so unbelievably stupid like this and now I'm going to have to start worrying about you at home as well. I'm just so unbelievably fucking mad with you for being so stupid. You could easily have been killed in a front-on collision with a power pole. You do understand that don't you?"

"Of course I understand that Jacob. I'm not an idiot," she snapped.

"Well that's news to me"

She glared at him, not quite believing his reaction. She would have thought that he would have been more sympathetic. He'd always been kind and caring in the face of adversity and she didn't believe his car meant so much to him to merit this reaction.

"Yeah, well it was probably the fact that I was leaning over into the passenger seat that saved me. Both the airbags went off and I just ended up sort of sliding sideways into them."

"Shit Rachel, surely you can see that just doesn't make sense. If you weren't leaning into the passenger seat you wouldn't have crashed the car in the first fucking place," he snorted. "I'm just glad I had the airbags retro-fitted. He sighed, "it's going to take months to get it fixed."

"What?"

"The car Rachel, what do you _think_ I'm talking about. You don't think they've just got parts for a 1969 sting ray sitting around do you?"

"I thought you didn't care about the car, only me."

"_Don't_ push me Rachel."

He shot her a black glare and was silent. He drained the last of the bourbon from his glass, went back into the kitchen, filled a bowl with ice and another with a bag of mixed nuts, grabbed the bottle and set the whole lot on the coffee table. He refilled his glass with ice and bourbon.

She glanced at him. He looked like he was settling in for the night. And Jacob in a filthy mood, plus a bottle of bourbon, could only mean trouble.

"I didn't realise that you worried about me while we're working, Jake. Why do you worry?"

"I thought that would be obvious." He had sat back into the couch, eyes closed as he spoke to her.

"Not to me obviously."

"It's a dangerous job for god sake Rachel. You carry a gun; we deal with criminals, disease, contaminants. I've already nearly lost you twice."

"I can handle myself Jacob. I'm highly trained. I've been working for the FBI for a long time now. I know what I'm doing. I'm not some useless girl you know." She was a bit annoyed to find out he felt like this. She had always prided herself in being able to keep him safe and now she found out that he worried about her. She suddenly felt that he was trying to undermine her position.

"It's not you I worry about so much, it's them, it's the people that would hurt you that I worry about. Or used to worry about. Now I find that I _do_ need to worry about you. I find that I need to worry about you having stupid car crashes over a bag of fucking Skittles. It seems to me that perhaps you _are_ a useless girl after all."

She was stung by his words. "Hey, before you get stuck into me, how about you look take a look at yourself for a change. Who was it who rolled their car a few months ago?"

"That was completely different Rachel and you know it. That guy ran a red light and took me off the road. I did a good job to avoid taking anyone else with me. I wasn't reaching for candy, I was paying attention to what I was doing. I always thought that's what you did as well." He sat up and reached for his glass, looked at her accusingly.

She sighed, realising it was time to come clean. Realising that he was too intelligent a man to accept the story she was telling him.

"Ok Jake, look, it wasn't just the Skittles. I admit that I probably let my mind wander when I should have been concentrating on the road. I was thinking about something. There's something I need to tell you."

"This better be fucking good," he snorted, draining his second glass of bourbon.

"Oh it is," she raised her eyebrows. "The other night when we were in Phoenix, you know, the night I came to your room."

A shadow of a smile brushed his lips briefly, remembering the night she was referring to.

"Yes, well, in the morning while you were still sleeping, Felix came and knocked on the door."

"Did he? I didn't hear him." Jacob frowned.

"Mmmm, I know you didn't. You were passed out on the bed at the time."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you blame me?"

"No, not at all, you deserved some rest - which is why I came to your room by the way, to try and help you get some sleep."

He smirked, "Well it worked."

"But anyhow, Felix came to the door and I answered it."

"You answered the door? Didn't he wonder why you were in my room?"

"Um, well I was in my pyjamas and he saw you, naked, on the bed"

He raised his eyebrows "Great"

"I think he worked out for himself why I was there"

"And, what did you say to him?" Jacob looked concerned. He didn't understand why she hadn't mentioned this to him before.

"Well we haven't really talked about it. I gave him some threatening looks at breakfast and he just kept quiet about it for the two days we were there after that. And I haven't seen him since we arrived home. And then we came here for the weekend. So…………"

"So, you're telling me that Felix knows about us, and you haven't even given him the courtesy of talking to him about it." He frowned.

"You know I don't really do talking Jake."

"Shit Rachel. What if he tells someone, the last thing we need is to be the latest FBI gossip. We could get the sack. Do you understand that? And its not just Felix we need to worry about is it? At some point this is going to come out one way or another and we're going to have to deal with it."

"Well, I don't think we should worry about it until it happens. Felix will keep quiet for us. We won't get the sack; Frank wouldn't sack you, Jake. More likely he'd give you some kind of ultimatum. I know what men are like, he'd probably think you were a hero for nailing your handler anyway," she laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

He shook his head; let her last irrelevant comment ride. "It may be better all round if I just left the FBI Rachel. You know I have no shortage of job offers. I can get a position somewhere else, I can do research, I can do consulting work; I could get an academic position."

"Come on. Frank's not going to let you leave the FBI, Jacob."

"He doesn't really have a say. I do what I want to do. Don't forget that. If he wants to keep me, he has to keep me happy."

"Well, tell him what would make you happy is to get me reassigned to another protection detail. Then we don't need to worry about our relationship. And you don't need to leave the FBI." She looked at him hopefully. Surely this would be the answer to all of their problems.

"Another protection detail? You'd be happy to go and be a handler for someone else?"

"Of course I would. I enjoy my work, better than some tedious desk job. I took you on didn't I? Surely no one else would be as difficult as you."

He looked at her silently for a few moments. "Surely you wouldn't do all this for someone else."

"Well of course not. I wouldn't fall in love with someone else. If I was reassigned it would be a normal job. We wouldn't have to spend so much time together and that might ultimately be good for us. She smiled at him, trying to lighten the atmosphere once again. "Don't you think we spend a little too much time together sometimes Jake? Don't I get on your nerves?"

His eyebrows shot up. "You're saying that I get on your nerves?"

"Of course I'm not saying that Jake. I think you're blowing this out of all proportion."

He looked at her silently. His heart was thumping. Despite all his misgivings, she apparently had no qualms whatsoever about taking on another protection detail. And presumably, she would have no problem with him having a new handler.

"Jake, it's only a job, you know. Don't confuse life with work."

"But it's dangerous work Rachel. It's not like we're stacking shelves in a public library. So you're telling me that you'd be happy to take on a new PD and you'd be happy for me to be assigned a new handler."

She laughed. "Well, I'm not sure about that, I mean, I don't think anyone else could stand you could they? Good luck to all those poor suckers that give it a go. You managed to get through quite a few before I came along!"

Typical, he thought, she was trying to avoid talking this through properly by using humour. She made him so _fucking_ angry sometimes.

He drained his glass again and refilled it with ice & bourbon.

"So, are you planning to drink that whole bottle?" she said, eyeing the bourbon.

He put his arm around her and pulled her into him.

He kissed her absentmindedly on the top of the head. "I'm going to give it a damn good go," he murmured.

An hour or so later, when she had drunk a couple of glasses, he had polished off the rest of the bottle, and they had picked over the bare bones of the same conversation again and again, she reminded him of the last time that he had had this much to drink. The night that he had been out with Frank.

"You've still never told me what happened that night."

"I'm not planning to," he retorted. "That was a difficult night. I don't really want to talk about it."

"I still remember how you made love to me." She glanced at him.

He shook his head. "I'm surprised you remember seeing as you were asleep."

"Well I tried to stay asleep but it's not easy when your lover appears in your bed in the middle of the night and gives you a mind-blowing orgasm without saying a word." She laughed and brushed her hair back off of her face.

He smiled gently and her heart melted a little seeing him happy for a tiny moment. Even if it was probably just the bourbon lightening his mood for a second.

"At least you just lay back and let me do what I wanted for once. Let me do what I wanted very, very, slowly."

She took this opportunity to try to gain an advantage. "If you tell me what Frank said to you, I'll let you do what you want again tonight, as fast or as slowly as you like."

He rubbed his temples slowly with the thumb and fingers of one hand. He was feeling a little unhinged. "Rachel, I told you what Frank and I talked about. I told you it was nothing interesting."

He stared out to sea silently, as his mind churned.

He knew he couldn't involve Frank in this. Couldn't admit even to her, that he already knew. Frank had warned him that the conversation had never taken place as far as he was concerned and he owed it to him to maintain the silence. Anyhow, now that Felix knew, he had a reason to talk to her without giving away Frank's confidence.

He'd had enough of all this endless talking though. If she wasn't prepared to speak to him properly about their future, if all she was going to do was make jokes, if all she was going to suggest was a transfer to another PD, then he didn't want to talk to her anymore. Anyway, he wasn't going to push her tonight of all nights, the night that she had written off his corvette. He was already angry with her and he'd had too much to drink to trust himself not to say too much. Pushing this conversation would only make him angrier, make him say something he might regret later. And he was still pissed that she hadn't actually said sorry to him for wrecking his car.

He turned and looked at her with his full attention. Gazed at her, observed her, as she sat on the couch next to him. He drank in her delicate face, her golden hair hanging freely around her shoulders and her downcast blue eyes. He was angry with her, really angry, but she still took his breath away. He felt a surge of desire flash through him, a desire to possess her, a desire to own her, a desire to make her understand how he felt. She was impossible to talk to, never really listened to him, always tried to deflect serious issues with humour. Sometimes it seemed that the only time he could really be close to her, the only way he could communicate with her, was with his body.

The thought made his groin flash hot. He wanted her, wanted her to apologise for the car, wanted her to see the depths of his anger, wanted her to understand how much the thought of her in danger hurt him.

He looked at the profile of her face. Her delicate blonde eyelashes and the upturn of her nose. Her full soft mouth, the tip of her tongue as she moistened her lips. He felt thick and hard and uncomfortable, he needed to be free of his clothes, he needed her in his arms. He needed to take her and make her understand, or he needed to cut and leave, take a swim, clear his head and his groin.

He realised that the time for skirting around the issues had passed. She needed to understand the seriousness of the situation. And he wasn't going to let her escape facing the truth this time. If she wouldn't talk to him properly, he was going to show the depth of his feeling in a way that she would understand.

Finally, his mind made up, he looked at her again, fixing her with an intense gaze.

"I can't believe you would try to blackmail me with sex Rachel. I've already told you what Frank and I talked about and anyhow, whether or not I tell you the full details of what we discussed, I _will_ be doing whatever I want to you tonight. You won't be blackmailing me."

"And what do you mean by that?" she frowned.

"I mean exactly what I said. I _will_ be doing whatever I like to you tonight."

"Jacob," she was a little bit shocked by his insinuation. "What if I don't want to have sex tonight?"

He shrugged. "What if you don't?"

"Well, if I don't want to, I won't be."

"Oh, you will."

"No I won't!!"

"Yes you _will_," he snapped at her. He looked at her, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

"So you're going to force me to have sex with you?"

She knew from experience that he was a horny drunk. Always loving, always gentle and considerate, but horny nonetheless. And she fully expected that when he sat down with that bottle of bourbon, that they would end up having sex that night. Given that they made love most nights, and many mornings, when they were at the beach house, it was hardly a stretch of the imagination anyway. But his blatant claim that she would be having sex with him regardless of whether she actually wanted to or not was too provocative for a woman like Rachel to accept.

She stood to leave, but he wrapped his long fingers around her forearm and pulled her back down to a sitting position on the couch, close to him.

"I won't need to force you, Rachel," he murmured in her ear, his voice deep and throaty and aroused.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. You _know_ you'll have sex with me – I won't need to force you."

She turned her face and looked at him. His eyes were deep green and lustful. This was a side of him she'd not seen since that warm Friday evening in July when she'd gone to meet him in the bar. This was forceful Jacob, lustful, demanding Jacob and he scared her a little. Scared her but turned her on. She had to admit that he did bad, very, very, well.

"Listen Jake; the more you keep saying that I'll have sex with you, the less likely I am to."

"Oh, I don't believe that. If I say you will, then you _will_."

His face was only millimetres from hers by then. His breath was hot on her face as it escaped from his parted lips. He reeked of raw sex.

"Get away from me Jacob." She was losing her patience with him now. It didn't matter how damn sexy she thought he was, he wasn't going to force himself on her.

"You don't want me to get away from you. In a little while you'll beg me to fuck you and when you come, you'll scream my name."

"You know I don't do name screaming. I think you're just kidding yourself." What she didn't tell him though was that her body was shivering in anticipation of his touch.

He leant over her and she felt herself sinking back into a laying position on the couch. His muscles under the close fitting shirt tensed as he held himself above her. He touched his lips barely to hers and then ran his scorching breath down her neck. The tip of his tongue grazed the sensitive skin under her ear and she felt her body tingling. She wanted to kiss him, to wrap her arms around him and pull him hard against her but didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Before she realized it he had locked his lips onto hers. His mouth was hot and demanding and she felt his tongue push her lips apart and explore her mouth. He pressed his body hard against her and she could feel his heavy erection against her thigh. She tried to resist him, but the feel of him hard and aroused, flooded her groin with melting warmth and she moved her hips instinctively against him. She wanted to hold him, run her hand along the hard silky length of him, feel him pulsing and alive beneath her fingers.

"Rachel," he whispered in his seductive, bad Jacob voice, "your mouth might try to say you don't want me, but I know you're lying. I know you too well."

He ran his fingers down her body to her thighs and slid them slowly up under her skirt. She held her breath. He cupped his hand around the crotch of her damp panties.

"Oh yes," he growled, "your sexy body is telling me something else entirely."

He kissed her again, slowly this time, deeply and sensually. She wanted to wind her hands in his hair and kiss him back, but was still fighting her response.

As he kissed her, he slid his other hand down over the swell of her breast and she couldn't help but arch her back, wanting him to touch her burning nipples. His hand ignored her though, and carried on down over the curve of her hip to her inner thigh.

Both of his hands were there now and he used them to pull her legs up, open wide against him. He didn't remove her panties but slid his body into the space. She could feel his erection pushing the fly buttons on his jeans hard up into her crotch. He thrust against her slowly, moving his position so one of the buttons was rubbing against her, caressing her hot nerves. It was hard and rough, but she had to bite her tongue to keep from moaning with pleasure. He slipped both of his hands round to her bottom and cupped her buttocks, moving her up against him to meet his thrusts.

As he kept up this irresistible pressure, he kissed his way down her neck and her cleavage until he found her hard nipples. Using his teeth, he slowly tweaked and pulled on each one. Like the button in her crotch, the sensation was uncomfortable but unbelievably erotic. She knew then that if he kept this up, that he would make her come fully clothed.

She had in her mind that she would resist him, that he couldn't make her come against her will, but as he had pointed out, her body wasn't reacting the way her mind wanted it too. She was so close to orgasm she could taste it, and she couldn't be that close and then walk away. She wanted him to stop what he was doing though, she wanted him to take his clothes off and make love to her properly, wanted to feel his hot skin on her body.

But as he gripped her ass tightly and ground himself against her, the barrier of their clothes still between them, she felt herself losing control. She arched her back helplessly against him, wanting to feel his hot mouth on her bare breasts, his naked skin against hers. She ran her hands through his thick hair and gripped it tightly.

"What do you want Rachel?" he purred. "Tell me. Tell me and you can have it."

"You" she gasped

"Tell me properly," he said "tell me properly Rachel".

"You Jacob, I want you,"

"And what do you want me to do?

She didn't want to say it.

"What do you want me to do?" he raised his eyebrows and pushed his erection hard against her.

"I want you to fuck me Jacob." She gasped the words, knowing these were the very words he was seeking, the words that would turn him on above all others.

He knelt up between her legs, his eyes black with arousal, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding back, his lips parted, "if you want me to fuck you Rachel, you need to undo the buttons on my jeans. And with each button you undo, you have to say please to me. Because I'm _pissed_ with you for being gung-ho with your own life. I'm _pissed_ with you for disregarding my feelings and I'm _pissed_ with you for destroying my car. I told you before that you'd be begging me to have sex with you. Well it's time to start begging, otherwise I'm going to leave you right here and go for a swim."

She hated him for talking to her like this, and hated herself for doing what he said, but she wanted him naked. Desperately wanted him naked and inside her. So she reached forward and slowly began undoing the buttons on his jeans.

"Please," she said in a quiet voice as she undid the first button.

"I can't hear you Rachel," he said threateningly.

"Please," she said a little louder as she undid the next button. She was aching for him and without the grinding of his hard crotch against hers she was feeling lost and alone. She needed to feel him there again needed him to make her come.

"Please," she said, breathlessly.

When all the buttons were undone, she slipped his jeans down his legs along with his trunks, releasing his straining erection. He groaned a little at the glorious feeling of freedom that he so desperately desired, the feeling of the cold air on him.

She moved her hands up to his shirt and pulled it up over his head, revealing his strong chest. She pushed the shirt from his shoulders and slowly ran her hands over his chest then down to his warm belly.

He removed her clothing slowly and seductively, letting the fabric drape across her body, tickling her skin. Driving her crazy with anticipation. And when she was naked and aching and writhing for him, he lifted one of her ankles to his mouth, and kissed and nibbled and licked down her leg, before placing it on his shoulder, and then the other.

With her feet around his ears, he placed one hand on the back of the couch and one on the arm next to her head and then slowly, quietly, gently made love to her with his hard body, without ever touching her with his hands or his mouth. He filled her and teased her and caressed her. He brought her skilfully and purposefully to the very edge of ecstasy and with each delicate, deliberate movement of his hips he held her there, but he didn't speak and his eyes never left her face.

She was completely under his control, fixated by his dark, demanding gaze and at the mercy of his skilful, sinful body. And when he felt her reach the brink of orgasm, felt the first tentative pulse of her around him and watched her face as she gasped with the anticipation of her release, he bit his lip and finally let himself go, slamming into her, shoving her into a half sitting position up the arm of the couch with each hard, desperate thrust.

And as he arched into her, driving home mercilessly, and finally exploding viciously inside her, she screamed his name, screamed his name as he threw her over the edge of the world and into the swirling unknown of nothing. Of nothing and everything, of nowhere and everywhere.

Later, as she lay gasping for breath on the couch, with his hot skin on hers and his arms wrapped around her, he turned his face towards her and slowly began kissing her neck, softly and lovingly.

"I told you that you would beg," he whispered, "and I told you that you would scream for me. And now I want my spare keys back and I want an apology from you for wrecking my corvette."

He gently placed both of his hands on her cheeks, held her face and looked deep into her eyes. His green gaze brimming with emotion, held her transfixed, and she could see the pain on his face, could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke.

"And I want a promise from you that you will never, ever, accept another position with the FBI that involves placing yourself in danger. I won't accept it Rachel, I will not accept you putting your life on the line for the sake of a job. And if you think you know me even a little bit, if you love me with even a portion of your soul, if you can grasp even a fraction of the reason why I have infinity tattooed on my body for you, then you will understand why it has to be this way."

Then he stood, pulled on his jeans, and buttoning the fly, walked shirtless and barefoot out of the house and down the beach.

She realised then that she was going to have to compromise if their relationship was to survive. She'd never had to consider anyone else before and the thought of having to please someone other than herself at this time in her life and at this time in her career, didn't excite her. Compromise did not come easily to her and she had never before considered having to give up anything, let alone her career, for a man.

But as she lay on the couch naked and exposed and alone, a tear ran down her cheek. She knew they had reached a crossroad, and for once in her life she felt neither tough, nor confident, nor self-assured. She was suddenly frightened, frightened by his anger, frightened by the depth of his desire, frightened by the depth of his conviction.

But mainly she was frightened by the thought of losing him.


End file.
